


miss argentina said it's my turn to talk to the therapist

by avosettas



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Beetlejuice the Musical Spoilers, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Therapy, this is still a juno hate zone.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22370275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: “I think you should have a seat, and we’ll have a chat about patient confidentiality, Mr. Juice.”Or, Lydia and Betelgeuse have a serious talk about some stuff. Just not with each other.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz
Comments: 5
Kudos: 129





	miss argentina said it's my turn to talk to the therapist

**Author's Note:**

> yeets this inton the archibve. i am so tired. got no idea how to end fics still and also this ended up being way longer than i intended lmfao  
> thanks again to soda @sodalite-fulll i love u bro  
> hmu on tumblr @asriells

“So, Lydia, what brings you in?” The therapist Miss Argentina had referred her to is extraordinarily old, wrinkly and short in stature. His name is something generic, like Dr. Smith. Lydia hums as she scrawls her full name on the confidentiality form he’s given her. 

“My mom died,” she begins, handing him the clipboard. “And then we moved, and my dad decided to get remarried -” 

“This happened very quickly?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not really the part I need to talk about.” She fumbles with the hem of her dress for a moment. “Then I met Adam and Barbara, and Beej, and I married him just so I could kill him and… I dunno, I feel like an awful person.” 

“Who is he to you, now?” 

“He’s… my best friend.” It hurts to admit, especially considering… well, everything. “Like, dad and Delia are my parents, and Adam and Barbara are kind of my parents too… Beej is more like a sibling than anything.” 

“Why did you need to kill him?”

“He… tricked me into exorcising Barbara.” Her hands are shaking. “He told me it would bring my mom back. I think he’s had it bad in the past - he doesn’t talk about it… but he was mad that I left him. He thought I was just going to leave him.” 

“So you agreed to marry him in order to kill him?” 

Lydia closes her eyes. Betelgeuse is her best friend, but they haven’t talked about this stuff. They just ignored it and let it fester until she was having nightmares and flashbacks about the crunching of his sternum as she stabbed him. 

“We, we knew that if I married him it would make him alive, and he would lose his powers. And, he promised to save Barbara. I didn’t feel like I had a choice, it was my fault she was dying again…” 

“Lydia, you always have a choice, but the choice might benefit only _you_.” 

“That was the issue.” 

“Where did killing him come into play?” 

“To, to make him Recently Deceased so the door would suck him in like it almost did to Adam.” 

Dr. Smith nods, jotting something down. “I think it would be constructive for you to have a conversation with your friend about this… incident. When you feel ready.” 

Lydia nods, clenching and unclenching her fists in her lap. 

~

Later, just after Lydia’s session, a bug falls from the ceiling. A strange, chewed-on bug. Dr. Smith looks up. 

Crouched on his ceiling as if his own gravity is reversed sits a demon. He’s positively filthy, green hair streaked with dirt, moss on his face, and the white spots of his black and white suit grimy. He fits Lydia’s description of Betelgeuse perfectly, right down to the cunning grin he gives upon his discovery. 

“I think you should have a seat, and we’ll have a chat about patient confidentiality, Mr. Juice.” 

“Why’s everyone callin’ me that lately?” The demon grumbles, settling heavily into the chair previously occupied by his human companion. 

“Well,” Dr. Smith replies, slightly testy. “You can fill this out, that way I’ll know your _actual_ name.” 

Betelgeuse takes the clipboard gingerly, and stares at it. When ten minutes pass, Dr. Smith prompts, “Mr…?” 

“‘M doin’ it, hold on…” 

“Can you… read?” Some demons couldn’t, he knew; it was something he didn’t understand, but it was known among Netherworld residents that many demons often had trouble reading and spelling. 

“Yes,” Betelgeuse grunts. “‘M just… ‘m stupid, sorry. Can’t spell…” 

_Or read_ , thinks Dr. Smith, as Betelgeuse hands him back the clipboard. “Basically, it explains that anything discussed here is completely private - which you violated for you friend.” 

He does, Dr. Smith notes as he scribbles down the date, look ashamed. 

“Could you tell me your full name for the signature?” 

“Lawrence. Can’t say my middle name. It’s the second brightest star in Orion… red. Shoggoth.” His eyes narrow. “Don’t call me Lawrence.”

“Middle name… Betelgeuse?”

“Mhm.” 

“Right,” he sets the clipboard to the side. “Firstly, I’d like to ask - why not your first name?” 

“‘S what ma always called me.” Betelgeuse’s voice changes to do an impression of a woman. “‘Lawrence, get me another beer. Lawrence, why am I keeping you in school if you can’t fucking spell?!’” His voice breaks and drops back to its normal pitch. “Ugh. An’ then she got pissed when I didn’t wanna hear that name anymore and didn’t know why!” He hangs his head, and his hands move up to pull at the roots of his hair - it isn’t so green all the way through, the therapist notices. The roots are a darker, greenish-brown. “Now I can’t even say my own fucking name!” 

“Please let go of your head, Betelgeuse.” The demon barely complies - his bitten, black nails are just barely miserable in the mess that is his hair. “Tell me more about your mother.” 

“I don’t want to fucking talk about her anymore.” 

“Fine.” He knew where to push and where not to. Also, he’d been warned by Miss Argentina that if Betelgeuse did find his way into the office, this is what he should expect. “How about Lydia?” 

Betelgeuse perks up, just a bit. “She was the first breather who could see me without sayin’ my name.” 

“What happened?” 

“She was gonna leave me.” Just like that, back to being hunched over. “Was stupid of me to think anyone would want to hang out with me.” 

“Can you explain your thinking?” 

“I... “ Betelgeuse looks pointedly at the floor. “She wanted to use the _Handbook for the Recently Deceased_ to try to bring back her mom… I was afraid she wasn’t gonna pay attention to me anymore.” 

_Afraid of being abandoned_ , Dr. Smith scribbles. “And then?” 

“I wanted to get back at her.” 

“With your whole marriage scheme.” 

“Yeah.” He pauses. “You know how shitty it feels to be, like, welcomed into a family when you’ve got basically nothing, and then they turn around and fucking kill you? I mean, I guess I pretty much fucking deserved it but -” 

“Betelgeuse, where are you staying now?” He interrupts. 

“With, with Lyds, and her family? I hang out on the roof a lot…” 

“Have you considered that if they really didn’t want you there, they would have said something?” 

“Haven’t talked to anyone about it.” Betelgeuse is still looking somewhere he can’t see. “I mean, I don’t think Chuck and Adam were all that happy about it, but Lyds and I have like, a silent agreement to… not mention any of it, I guess.” 

~

Lydia is doing homework when Betelgeuse wanders into her room. “Hi, Beej.” 

“Hey.” He’s distant, she notices, which isn’t ever a good sign. Too into his head. 

As if she hadn’t noticed him on the ceiling in the therapist’s office. 

She closes her textbook and pats the bed beside her. “C’mere. Let’s talk.” 

“‘Bout what? You wanna hear about when -” 

“I wanna talk about what Miss Argentina’s therapist said.” Lydia interrupts, before he can launch into some raunchy story. 

Betelgeuse winces. “Kinda figured we were keeping our… little unspoken agreement.” 

Lydia sighs. “I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, back there… I had fun with you and then you suddenly decided to try and kill Barbara.” 

“You left me.” Betelgeuse won’t make eye contact - his amber eyes are dull. 

“There are other people in my life, Beej.” 

“I think,” Betelgeuse takes a deep breath, despite not needing to breathe. “I think I was worried that if you got your mom back, you wouldn’t pay attention to me anymore. You were the first breather to see me without sayin’ my name, Lyds.” 

“Is that why you stuck around?” Lydia asks, staring straight forwards. “I killed you, Beej.” 

“‘M not meant to be alive, y’know.” He rolls his neck slightly - the broken vertebrae crack with each tiny movement. “I don’t know. No hard feelings.” 

“None from me, either, then,” Lydia replies, resting her head on his shoulder. It’s caked in dirt, and cold even through his suit, but it’s her best friend. “Y’know, I’m never gonna abandon you, Beej. But I’ve got other people in my life, too.” 

Betelgeuse closes his eyes, and nods.


End file.
